Of the 10 days we’d be together, and of all the myriad of ways this trip could be stressful, this would be the day that my parents would swear under no certain terms that they would never transfer or stay in Venice Old Town ever again. I’m inclined to agree to some measure. Let me tell you the tale of 4 weary people simply trying to get on a cruise…
A little background: When I booked this cruise, it was advertised as “sailing” out of Venice. Since that time, Venice is no longer allowing cruise ships to make port there as the wake and weight of the ships is seriously damaging the wetland and shorelines surrounding the area and causing irreparable damage to the structures of Venice Old Town and other islands nearby. Instead, cruise lines are now docking in a port city nearly 3 hours south called Ravenna. Had we known this, we 100% would have booked our flights and travel in and out of Bologna, which IMHO is just as interesting, if not more so, and FAR easier logistically to navigate and get around in- especially for someone with mobility issues or who might struggle with luggage on the bridges or on the uneven stone walkways of Venice. Now… don’t get me wrong! I love Venice, and I would go back in a heartbeat for a few very specific things to do, but for our purposes of transferring to the ship, we’d have chosen Bologna or Florence as a starting point.
And so begins our day of more travel. It wasn’t too difficult to get up as the jetlag was real. It would take days to adjust, but that is par for the course. It was only just light when the alarms went off at 7:30. Our train wasn’t until 10:30 which left plenty of time to enjoy a coffee and pastry with a view beforehand. Now a word about my dad. (He has passed since posting this chapter) He (was) a very impatient person when it comes to food and when he is hungry the world needs to stop what it’s doing and bow to feed the beast. There are plenty, and I do mean plenty, of cafes in Venice and every other Italian village and city. There are literally several to a block. Some have outdoor seating, some have standing room only and are truly a to-go deal; some are tiny, others large. He wanted to stop at the first one right outside the Airbnb door. Mikki and I had to get a bit stern with him.
“No, this one isn’t inviting and does not have a view whatsoever.”
“But it’s right here!”
“Yes, and there will another closer to the station right on a canal!”
“Yes, but I’m hungry!”
“Yes, we know you are; you always are!”
He wanted to stop at every single one between there and the train station.
Oy, for 10 days…. We finally did find a very nice one, which was NOT the one I’d pre-researched before the trip. That one didn’t have seating which wasn’t an option given our ridiculous amount of luggage and the need to have Mom not stand as much as possible.
What I can tell you is that it was mere feet away from the Santa Lucia Stazione and very, very busy, even at 8:30AM, with the hustle and bustle of commuting workers arriving by vaporetto from the Mainland, shopkeepers setting up their crap-stands, and tourists wandering around in a daze just as lost as they’d be for their entire stay.
Breakfast was amazing. I got the requisite croissant pastry, this time filled with chocolate and a thick, strong latte. The others followed suit and got pastries of other iterations as well and Dad tanked up on Coke- always served with lemon in Italy. Surrounded by both locals and tourists, we took our time enjoying the morning sun and beautiful view one can only enjoy in Venice.
We arrived at the train station too early for our train to be displayed on the Departures Board, so we found a bench and took turns going potty. We soon found out that it costs money to go potty in Italy. (This is true in many parts of the world, just a heads up.) Money in the form of coins which we did not have, that is. Dad and Mikki had disappeared but did not tell us that one of their errands was to find some change for said potties. But Mom had to go… right now. Desperate times call for desperate measures. I told her to hand me a $20 bill and I’d go change it quickly. You can imagine my shock when the agent handed me $15 back. I was peeved (I’d rather a better word here, but family board and all that), but as you’ll find out later, I didn’t learn my lesson very well. But at least we didn’t have a potty accident right there on Platform 5. After my expensive exchange run, Mikki and Dad returned with a good chunk of change with only having to buy a pack of gum.
When we bought our tickets before leaving home through the Trainline App (VERY easy to use, by the way; we used it a TON for this trip!) we knew nothing about Italian trains, what to expect, the stations, transferring… nothing. Had we, the following doo-doo show would not have occurred.
https://www.thetrainline.com/information/apps
We bought the first class tickets with coffee and snack service, Wifi, luggage storage, and a few other extra perks. This was the only time we upgraded not knowing what to expect. When the train arrived, we found our carriage and seats and settled in for the first 1½ hour leg of our journey. Life was peachy and the scenery was blissful. I wish I could show the rolling hills covered in vineyards, small estates with tidy home gardens, and stone and terracotta villages we passed all along the way, but sadly l didn’t take any photos. However, I did when I passed along this same route later in the trip.
We arrived in Ferrara, our transfer station, with 10 minutes to spare. Under normal circumstances and for folks with strong legs and little to no baggage, it wouldn’t be a problem at all. Easy peasy. But as it was, we were a mixed group of young and older with a crap-ton of bags to manage. Even with no stairs or steps Mom was having a hard time with her luggage and now we were faced with a very hellish 10 minutes. Most train stations in Italy have stairways down, under the tracks, and back up again to get to adjacent platforms. Mikki and I started trying to find which platform we even needed, then had to find which way to go to get to it. This took 5 of our 10 minutes. The long painful process of getting all of our VERY heavy bags down and back up those stairwells fell to Mikki and me while Mom and Dad simply had to hurry along and get there. By the time Mom and I got there I literally THREW the last bag onto the train and, sadly, I confess, yelled at her to “JUST GET ON IT!” The doors were literally closing, and the whistle had been blown. I was a freaked out hot mess and longed for a very large glass of wine hot off a Tuscan hillside. It was at that moment that we looked at each other and said that particular scenario will be avoided again at all costs and Mom and Dad swore they’d never fly in or out of Venice again. It’s easy enough to take a train (without too tight of a transfer) into the city if you want to visit.
Our leg from Ferrara (which I’d end up transferring at about 4 times this trip) to Ravenna was another nice 1½ hour ride and all too soon we were out of the station and not exactly sure how we were going to get to the port which was another half hour bus ride away. I’d done loads of research on what others were doing and how Celebrity would handle this and was pretty sure we’d end up taking a taxi on our own. Others were saying on FB groups that sometimes the cruise line had shuttle buses. And that’s how it played out. For $10 each, which was less than we could take a taxi for, we ended up being the very last folks they let on the bus that was waiting. Hurrah!! 30 minutes later, we pulled up to this hot zone. You can take that any way you like. All or none might be accurate.
We had to sit on the bus for another 15 or so minutes so they could re-route the hordes and then were finally able to join this queue. It did look long but the check-in process was actually pretty efficient. The only thing that made it all the longer was doofuses like me who couldn’t find the right documents quickly, or who misplaced their phones and had to momentarily step out of line to fish through a bag, or who was struggling with too many things to be able to use 2 hands. In all it took about 30 minutes to be onboard including passport checks (which served as immigration), security and baggage scans, and Covid test verification. I might add it went about 100 times smoother than the boarding process in Vancouver for the Alaska cruise. Canada, you need to up your game there.
I think I will leave off there, because just writing that makes me want a cocktail and to decompress again from that exhausting travel day. Coming up, we have 1½ days at sea before we make our first port stop. How did that go? Stay tuned, Friends!
